


A Song of Witches and Wizards

by aryastcrks



Series: A Song of Witches and Wizards [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming of Age, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, M/M, Multi, Mystery, Slow Burn, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:58:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aryastcrks/pseuds/aryastcrks
Summary: ASOIAF characters at Hogwarts. Takes place in Harry Potter's fourth year. Relationships and friendships blossom. Mysteries unfold. Antics ensue. Concept by Claire & Bailey.





	1. Sorting Hat

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii this is my first crossover fic! I'm taking bits and pieces from the plots of both ASOIAF and HP and hopefully it'll be cohesive! I hope you all enjoy :)

Rickon beamed proudly as he walked into the Great Hall with the rest of the first years. He shuffled to the front of the hall and whispered to a young blonde boy next to him, “I can’t wait to be sorted! What house do you think you’ll be in?”

“Hufflepuff, like my older sister, or Slytherin, like my older brother. I’m Tommen, by the way.”

“Rickon.” He held out his hand to young Tommen and they grasped each other’s hands tightly as they shook. 

Rickon looked across the hall and saw his siblings Arya, Jon, and Robb sitting at the Gryffindor table. Arya waved excitedly at him, while Robb and Jon gave him an encouraging smile. 

His eyes turned towards the Hufflepuff table, where the Reed siblings sat. Their families had been close for as long as Rickon could remember. Rickon smiled at Meera and Jojen, and they smiled back. 

He scanned the Ravenclaw table for Sansa and Bran, his remaining siblings, and landed on their kind faces at the end of the seemingly never-ending table. They both gave him a smile and a thumbs up. 

Finally, he looked at the witches and wizards of the Slytherin table. He spotted Theon Greyjoy, the Starks’ closest friend; he grew up with Robb and Jon and is Robb’s best friend. Rickon was not necessarily fond of the arrogant seventh year, but he didn’t hate him either. He recognized the beautiful silver-haired girl with violet eyes who he knew as Daenerys Targaryen. Famous for her father’s downfall as the Minister of Magic, she was known to all in the wizarding world. However, she didn’t let that affect her; she sat proudly as her silky hair cascaded down her back, looking radiant and regal in the candlelight of the Great Hall. He also saw a blonde boy who looked similar to Tommen and realized who he was: Joffrey Baratheon. _That means... Tommen is a Baratheon too!_ Rickon thought. Joffrey, Tommen, and their sister, Myrcella, were the children of Robert Baratheon, the current Minister of Magic, and Cersei Lannister, the professor of History of Magic. Rumor had it that Joffrey Baratheon and Draco Malfoy thought they owned the school. Rickon shook his head and turned his attention back to his peers being sorted by the Sorting Hat. 

He was shaking from excitement as Tommen was called up to the front by Professor Tarth. After a moment, the Hat shouted, “Hufflepuff!” 

Tommen smiled proudly and strutted to the Hufflepuff table as his peers welcomed him. Rickon cheered for his new acquaintance. 

After what seemed like an eternity, Professor Tarth finally called his name. 

“Rickon Stark!”

Rickon nervously walked up the steps and sat on the stool, waiting for the Sorting Hat to announce his fate. 

As soon as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head, the Hat started pondering outloud. 

“Hmmm... yet another Stark.... should I put you in Gryffindor, like Arya, Jon and Robb? Or Ravenclaw, like Sansa and Bran? Or maybe, just maybe..... Hufflepuff.... you have a loyal and courageous heart, young one. What say you?”

“I think I’d like to be in Gryffindor,” Rickon said, as he had hoped to be in Gryffindor ever since he understood the concept of the Sorting Hat. 

“Very well,” the Hat replied. “Gryffindor!” its voice boomed across the hall and the Gryffindor table erupted into chaos. Arya, Robb, and Jon stood on top of their seats, whistling and hooting and chanting his name. Sansa and Bran looked slightly disappointed, but happy for Rickon nonetheless. Rickon nearly tripped over himself as he ran towards his siblings, and once he got to the Gryffindor table, Arya playfully punched his arm, Jon ruffled his hair, and Robb held out his hand for a high five. 

Rickon had never felt more excited and proud than he did in that moment. He nonchalantly wiped a tear from his eye, as to make sure no one saw that he was crying. He did it! He was finally a Gryffindor. 

Rickon looked down the table and gasped as he saw the famous Harry Potter! He always knew that Harry Potter was a Gryffindor like Arya, Robb, and Jon, but he was still shocked to see him in person. 

Harry wore unruly brown hair, circular glasses, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Next to Harry sat a red-haired boy and a pretty girl with dark skin and bushy hair. He day dreamed about being friends with Harry until Arya flicked him in the ear. 

“Ow!” Rickon exclaimed. “What’d you do that for?!”

Arya whispered, “Quiet! Dumbledore’s talking!”

Rickon immediately quieted and turned his attention to the front of the Great Hall. 

“As you all know, this year Hogwarts will be hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament! However, only students who are 17 or older will be able to participate,” Dumbledore announced. 

Whispers and groans of disappointment traveled across the hall, which Dumbledore ignored. 

Dumbledore announced the ladies of Beauxbatons and the gentlemen of Durmstrang, and Rickon watched in amazement as both schools put on performances to awe the students of Hogwarts. 

Rickon turned to Arya and whispered excitedly about the gigantic woman walking down the hall with the students of Beauxbatons, and Robb smacked him lightly upside the head. 

“Don’t be rude!” Robb said in a hushed voice. 

“I wasn’t!” Rickon argued. “I think she’s cool!”

Jon rolled his eyes and laughed. 

Soon, everyone dug into their dinner and talked and laughed into the night. 

***

After dinner, Rickon walked with Arya, Robb, and Jon to the Gryffindor common room. Halfway there, Rickon heard a commotion down one of the corridors. He nudged Arya and said, “hey, wanna see what’s going on?” Arya nodded enthusiastically, and they stayed behind the group to see what was happening.

Rickon and Arya crouched against the wall and peered around the corner to see what was happening down the hall. He found Joffrey and his friend Draco pushing around his new friend Tommen. 

“Hufflepuff! Ha, what a joke! You’re a disgrace to the family, just like Myrcella!” Joffrey laughed cruelly as he pushed him towards Draco. 

“Hufflepuff is full of losers just like you! You’ll fit in great!” Draco replied, pushing Tommen back towards Joffrey. 

Arya had seen enough. She took out her wand and curled her fists, stomping down the hallway towards the bullies. 

“Wait, wait! Don’t!” Rickon whispered, but it was too late, so Rickon followed in his sister’s footsteps. 

“Hey, losers! Pick on someone your own size!” Arya shouted as she pointed her wand towards Joffrey. 

“Flipendo!” Arya exclaimed, and Joffrey fell flat on his face, biting his lip in the process. He flipped his long blonde hair out of his face and Rickon saw his eyes were on fire, and his face was as red as a lobster. 

“You’ll regret that!” Draco said as he pointed his wand towards Arya, but Arya was quicker. 

“Expelliarmus!” she shouted, and Draco’s wand flew across the hallway into a dark corner. As Joffrey cradled his bleeding lip and struggled to get up and Draco scrambled on the ground looking for his wand, Tommen ran and ducked behind Arya and Rickon. 

“Are you okay?” Rickon whispered to Tommen, realizing he had a bloody nose. 

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Tommen said in a sullen voice. “I’m used to Joffrey doing this.”

“Come on, let’s go!” Arya rushed Rickon and Tommen up the moving staircase as Joffrey’s voice rang down the hallway with the words: “My father will hear about this!”

Arya, Rickon, and Tommen reached the Gryffindor common room after sprinting all the way there, their breath catching up with their bodies. Arya stated the password and they all entered. 

Rickon stared in awe at the common room, its rustic and welcoming aura excuding warmth. Harry Potter sat with his friends at the couches in front of the fireplace as Arya ushered in Tommen. 

“Come on, kiddo, lets get your nose fixed,” Arya said in a maternal tone. “Hey Hermione! You got a spell to fix a broken nose?” Arya called out. 

The pretty dark-skinned girl with bushy hair sitting by Harry turned around and replied: “Yes I do, why do you need it?”

Arya stepped aside and revealed Tommen, his clothes ruffled and nose bleeding. The girl named Hermione gasped. 

“What happened?! You need to report this!” she said. 

“Can’t,” Arya replied. “This was the work of Joffrey.” 

“Oh,” Hermione said in a disappointed tone. Nevertheless, she walked over to Tommen with her wand out, and quickly said “Episkey!”

Tommen flinched but otherwise seemed okay. 

“Thanks,” Tommen said, looking down at his feet. 

Arya took Rickon to the side and said: “Hey Rick, maybe you should walk your friend to the Hufflepuff common room and make sure he’s alright.” Rickon nodded in response. 

In the hallway, they walked in silence. 

“So....” Rickon said. “Why does your own brother beat on you like that?”

Tommen sighed. “I don’t know. He hates everyone except Draco. He beats on everyone he can get his hands on. I’m pretty sure he was born evil.”

“Aw, don’t say that! I’m sure he wasn’t born evil. Maybe we can make him see how he’s acting is bad.”

“Maybe...” Tommen trailed off. 

Just then, they heard voices coming from an ajar door. 

“Shhh!” Rickon hushed his new friend. 

They crept up next to the door and heard two voices arguing. 

“Something is coming. It’s... it’s the Dark Lord. He’s finally back!” said the female voice. 

The male voice retorted angrily, “There’s no way in seven hells he’s back. That kid Potter somehow killed him. He’s dead.”

Rickon and Tommen looked at each other with worried expressions. 

“I think we should get out of here....” Tommen said, shaking. “That sounds like my mom and uncle....”

Rickon raised his eyebrows but didn’t question his friend. He didn’t fully understand what the two voices were talking about, but he knew it wasn’t anything pleasant. The two first year boys rushed to the Hufflepuff common room. 

Tommen and Rickon played wizard’s chess and talked and laughed in the Hufflepuff common room until it got so late that Rickon couldn’t stop yawning. They smiled at each other and parted ways. 

Rickon giddily walked down the hallway towards his own common room, reeling with the events of the day. He couldn’t believe he was finally here, at Hogwarts. It was like a dream. 

_Tomorrow, I’ll tell my family about the voices I heard. But for now, I’ll enjoy my first night in the Gryffindor dorms._

Rickon rested easily and happily that night, dreaming of flying on a broomstick.


	2. Chance Encounter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rickon tells his family about what he heard with Tommen & Sansa meets someone new.

Sansa sat on a grassy patch of land beside the Great Lake, petting Lady’s elegant grey fur, with her siblings surrounding her. 

Lady and the other direwolves would spend most of their time in the Forbidden Forest or visiting Hagrid, but sometimes they’d walk around the Great Lake with the Starks. Sansa and her siblings had found their direwolves in a forest by their home in Scotland two years ago, and they have been raising them ever since; Hagrid helped them fight for the right to bring them to Hogwarts and Dumbledore approved. Professor Cersei Lannister tried to stop the approval, and because of her being married to the Minister of Magic, they almost lost their direwolves altogether. Thankfully, Dumbledore and their father, Ned Stark, were close friends with the Minister of Magic, and therefore had sway with him. Sansa didn’t often see her Lady here at Hogwarts, but she was glad she could spend time with her today. 

Shaggydog lapped at Rickon’s hands while Rickon was explaining the conversation that he overheard the night before with Tommen Baratheon. Sansa thought it dangerous to befriend Tommen; she knew how Joffrey was, and was afraid that Rickon would become a target of his. 

“Tommen said that it was his mother and uncle,” Rickon said, stroking Shaggy’s silky midnight fur. “That means it was Professor Cersei Lannister and either Professor Tyrion or Professor Jaime.”

“It has to be Jaime Lannister,” said Arya, leaning against Nymeria. “Tyrion may be a Lannister but he’s not fond of his sister.”

Sansa pondered this for a moment. Tyrion had always made jests about Cersei during Charms class. 

“Cersei has more jewels than brain cells,” Tyrion had once said. “She only teaches History of Magic because her husband is the Minister.” Of course, it had always gotten back to Professor Cersei and she’d make quips about Tyrion’s height during History of Magic class, and around and around it went. Sansa wondered why Dumbledore did nothing about it, but came to the realization that the Headmaster probably had more important things to worry about than harmless family squabbles. 

“We have to confront them!” Jon exclaimed. “We have to make sure they don’t get away with whatever they’re up to!”

“I agree,” Robb said. “I’ve never trusted Professor Cersei or Professor Jaime. They’re clearly involved with You-Know-Who.”

“No,” Bran replied. “We have to tell Dumbledore. He’ll know what to do.”

“Maybe we’re all blowing this out of proportion,” Sansa finally chimed in. “Maybe Cersei has a bad feeling about something and wants to put a stop to it before it begins. What she said doesn’t even make sense. How can he be back? He’s dead. We have to find out more about what Rickon and Tommen heard before we do anything.”

“She has a point,” said Arya. “I think we should spy on them.”

Bran looked deep in thought for a moment, staring into Summer’s eyes as if communicating with him telepathically, and then he nodded his head. “You’re right,” he said. 

Robb and Jon looked at each other, and then they sighed collectively. 

“Yes. Let’s figure out a plan. Let’s meet here tomorrow at 11. I have to get to class,” Robb said, collecting his books and giving Grey Wind a scratch behind the ears. 

“Me too,” said Jon, and he nuzzled against Ghost’s fur as if to say goodbye, then left with Robb, walking up the steep, grassy hill towards the castle. 

Arya abruptly got up and threw a stick for Nymeria to fetch. Nymeria lifted her head, looked lazily at the stick, then placed her head back down on the ground. 

“Go ahead girl! Go get it! Fetch!” Arya encouraged. 

Nymeria grunted and closed her eyes. 

Arya huffed and sat back down on the ground. 

“So what are you guys doing the rest of the day?” Arya said, picking clumps of grass out of the ground as if she needed to preoccupy her hands. 

“I’m going to go study with Hermione after classes,” said Sansa, continuing to strike Lady’s fur. “Then I’m making lemon cakes in the kitchens with Luna.”

“I’m playing wizard’s chess with Tommen!” exclaimed Rickon, a big grin on his face. 

Sansa sighed. “Rickon, I—“ she stopped mid-sentence. She wanted to warn him, to tell him to be careful about hanging around Tommen, to alert him of Joffrey’s cruelty, but she didn’t want to ruin his happiness and his very first friendship here at Hogwarts. She remembered how it felt to be lonely and dejected. Her first year, she sat alone in the Ravenclaw common room for the first three months, studying and writing letters to her mother and father. She had Robb and Jon, but they were busy with quidditch and their older friends in Gryffindor; they couldn’t be bothered with doting on their younger sister. The first person that wasn’t her family who approached her was Luna Lovegood. She had been sitting in her usual spot in the Ravenclaw common room, studying up on her Charms homework, when Luna sat in the chair next to her. Sansa looked up from her book, but said nothing. Luna seemed to feel Sansa’s eyes on her and without looking up from her book, she said, “Why hello,” in a soft, lovely voice. 

“Hi,” Sansa said shyly. 

“Would you like a Quibbler?”

And so began their friendship. They were both first years, they both enjoyed fantasy novels, and they both fancied lemon cakes. They got along quite well, and their friendship blossomed and they became inseparable. After a while, she met Hermione Granger, and they spent late nights discussing the history of Hogwarts and practicing charms together, braiding their hair and gossiping over boys. In turn she met Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, and Sansa finally fell in love with Hogwarts, as she fell in love with her friends. 

Sansa came back to reality with a small, reminiscent smile upon her lips. Rickon looked at her expectantly. 

“I just want you to watch out for Joffrey, that’s all.”

Bran and Arya agreed. 

“I heard he once tried using the Cruciatus curse on a first year,” Arya said with wide eyes. 

“That’s just a rumor,” Bran said cautiously. “He can’t be that bad.”

“You’ve never come face to face with him,” said Sansa. “He’s called Hermione a Mudblood and he’s used the full-body bind curse on me. I couldn’t move all day that day in my second year.”

Bran, Arya, and Rickon looked down. They knew Joffrey had always been a bully, but they didn’t know that he personally hurt Sansa; that’s because Sansa kept it a secret. She didn’t want to be known as the girl who tattled on the Minister’s son. 

“I’ll be careful,” said Rickon. He gave Sansa a reassuring smile and left for class. Bran and Arya followed suit, and Sansa remained by the Great Lake, gently stroking Lady’s fur, until Lady got bored and gracefully galloped towards the Forbidden Forest. 

She got out her Potions textbook to prepare for her next class, when something hard and sharp hit the back of her head. Her vision when black and red, and she felt a thick liquid dripping down her neck. When she regained her vision, she used her hand to touch the back of her head, and when she brought her hand in front of her face, it was covered in dark red blood. 

She looked down beside her and saw a decently-sized rock covered in her blood sitting there, taunting her. 

“What the—“ she said as she turned around, and there he was. Joffrey. 

“Why, you—!” Sansa started. She got up from her soft bed of grass and marched towards him. 

“You vile little—cockroach!” Sansa screeched, losing her temper. She had been cursed by Joffrey, but he had never drawn blood before. Her head was pounding and she felt blood still gushing out of the wound in her flesh. Joffrey was laughing his nasty, nasally laugh. 

“What are you gonna do?” Joffrey said. “Nothing. You’re going to do nothing, because my father is the Minister, and because you’re afraid of me.”

Sansa didn’t know what came over her in that moment, but she was seeing red when it happened — she punched Joffrey in the face. 

“What the f—“ Joffrey started, gingerly holding the cheek where Sansa’s fist had made contact, disbelief and shock spreading across his reddening face. 

Sansa was breathing hard and fast, scared of what might happen next. 

Joffrey pulled out his wand, and when Sansa went to pull hers out to defend herself, she realized she had left it over in the grass. Panic struck her as Draco said, “Crucio—“

“Expelliarmus!” came a pleasant, enticing voice from behind her. Joffrey’s wand flew ten feet in the air and landed in the grass beside Sansa. Joffrey looked so angry he might explode. 

Sansa looked behind her and put a face to the romantic voice who had saved her; Daenerys Targaryen. Maybe it was because Sansa had been hit in the head, maybe it was because she had saved her, but it seemed as if a soft, silver glow was radiating from Daenerys’ body and face. She realized her mouth was gaping open, and she closed it immediately. 

Daenerys came up beside Sansa and picked up Joffrey’s wand. What she did next shocked Sansa; she snapped it in half. 

Joffrey’s face grew as red as a rose as he screamed, “You can’t do that!”

“I can, and I just did,” Daenerys said calmly. 

“My father will hear about this!” Joffrey threatened, stomping up the hill towards the castle. 

Sansa had lost a lot of blood, and she felt faint; she started to tilt a bit to the left when Daenerys caught her and brought her gently to the ground. The stunning fifth-year girl laid Sansa’s head on her lap, preparing to heal her wound. 

“I’ll get blood on your skirt—“ started Sansa. 

“Don’t worry,” Daenerys said. “Just stay quiet while I fix this.”

Sansa couldn’t believe this was happening; her head was in the lap of Daenerys Targaryen; butterflies flurried in her stomach as she could feel Daenerys parting her hair and gingerly putting a hand against her wound. Sansa flinched and Daenerys whispered reassuring words into her ear. This felt like a dream. 

Daenerys muttered an unfamiliar charm, then said, “All done!”

Sansa used her hand to feel where the wound had been, and she felt nothing but smooth skin and silky hair. 

Sansa turned towards Daenerys and said, “I don’t know how to thank you. Daenerys—“

“Dany,” she said. “You can call me Dany.” She smiled softly, her violet eyes and silver hair shimmering in the sun. “And you don’t have to thank me. Joffrey’s been a pain in my arse since he got here, and I won’t let him hurt anyone else if I can help it.” 

Sansa was amazed by this girl. She seemed unreal. 

“Well thank you, Dany. Thank you very much. Let me treat you to a Butterbeer at Hogsmeade sometime.”

“That sounds great!” Dany smiled. 

Dany handed her chocolate and a bottle of pumpkin juice from her bag. “Eat up. You lost a lot of blood and you’ll need this to get your energy back.” And with that, Dany walked away, silver hair flowing behind her all the way. 

Sansa held the back of her head in disbelief. Later, she took a shower to wash the blood from her hair, then she laid in bed thinking about Dany’s deep violet eyes. It wasn’t until she was an inch from sleep that she realized she forgot to tell Dany her name.


	3. The Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bran discovers something he shouldn't have seen. Dumbledore makes an announcement.

Bran wandered the corridors of Hogwarts, thinking upon what Rickon had told him and the rest of the Starks yesterday. He knew Professors Jaime and Cersei were up to something involving You-Know-Who, and he knew it wasn’t anything good. Yesterday Sansa had offered a solution; to spy on Jaime and Cersei. Because Bran was naturally curious, he decided to take things into his own hands.

Bran had a sudden epiphany; _what if I use my broomstick to fly up to Cersei’s office and try to eavesdrop?_ He knew it would be a huge risk, but he also knew he couldn’t risk having Death Eaters at the school and putting other children in danger.

Because he was the seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, he could use the excuse of practice to fly his broom up to Professor Cersei’s office. He half-ran, half-jogged to the Quidditch field to retrieve his broom. His broom was his most beloved possession, aside from Summer, whom was more like a friend to him than a pet. He and Summer shared a special connection that no one else understood; Bran could see through Summer’s eyes. This was a rare and special ability in the wizarding world, his friend Harry Potter had told him. They shared secrets with each other at the weirwood just beyond the forest line of the Forbidden Forest, with Summer and Hedwig by their sides.

When he got to the Quidditch field he saw the Gryffindor team getting ready to practice. Harry stood a few yards away from him, getting on his Quidditch robes and mounting his Firebolt.

“Hey, Harry!” Bran called out. Harry looked around for the sound of the voice, then waved at Bran and walked over to him. 

“Hey, Raisin Bran!” Harry ruffled Bran’s hair. Bran laughed in return.

“I told you to stop calling me that!” Bran said, giving Harry a playful punch in the arm.

“Sorry, Bran. I can’t help it. Anyways, I have to get to Quidditch practice. I’ll see you later!” Harry strode off and mounted his broom, flying away into the distance.

Bran then mounted his own broomstick and flew up to the North Tower where Professor Cersei’s office was located. Once he got to the window, he idled his broom and stayed there, floating, watching; inside the office he saw ornate decorations and knick-knacks cluttering the heavily draped room, Lannister banners and gems standing out from everything else. Wafting into the outside air was the perfume from Dorne that Professor Cersei liked to wear. He floated there for a few moments, waiting for Professor Cersei to show up; he knew her class had just let out and that she usually came to her office around noon.

Noon passed, then 12:15, then 12:30. Thankfully, people usually didn’t walk this way, so he knew he probably wouldn’t be spotted by anyone, but he was getting anxious and impatient. Just as he was about to turn around and leave, he heard Professor Cersei’s door open, but it wasn’t just Cersei who walked in; it was Professor Jaime as well. _Yes!_ Bran thought. _I got luckier than I had dared to hope!_ Bran brought his broom lower so that his head was just below the window.

“I don’t know why you keep denying the truth!” Cersei said angrily to her twin brother. “He’s back! And this time he’ll conquer what he couldn’t before!”

“He’s gone,” Jaime replied sharply. “I don’t know why you’d want him back, anyway. You remember what he did. Would you much sooner but your children in danger?”

Bran lifted his broom higher again just in time to see Cersei slap Jaime across the face. Cersei then lifted her sleeve to reveal a Dark Mark, slithering upon her inner forearm, almost emitting a soft, ghostly glow.

Bran gasped, too loudly, he had realized too late.

Jaime and Cersei sharply turned their heads towards the window and caught sight of him just before Bran lowered his broom again. Just as he was about to fly away, Jaime grabbed a hold of the hood of his robe and pulled him back, nearly yanking him off his broom.

“What do we have here?” asked Jaime.

“I’m sorry, I—“ Bran started, but Jaime cut him off. 

“What are you doing all the way over here so far from the Quidditch field, boy?” he said with a dangerous smile.

  
Bran’s mind raced, trying to think of an excuse to tell the professor.

“No worries. I won’t tell anyone, as long as you won’t.” And with that, Jaime shouted the memory-loss curse, and then Bran was falling, falling, falling…

***

Theon Greyjoy and Robb Stark raced each other to their next class, knocking each other out of the way and trying to trip each other. The sixth-year boy and the seventh-year boy laughed and shouted, playfully insulting each other the whole way. Eventually, Theon tripped over his own feet and tumbled forward, tripping Robb in return. The boys laughed until their lungs gave out, pushing each other playfully.

“Come on, we’ll be late for class,” Robb said, standing up and brushing off his robes. He held out his hand to help Theon up, and Theon accepted. As the two stood up together, they continued holding hands, looking into each other’s eyes just a second too long. Theon cleared his throat and dropped his hand, saying, “You’re right, let’s get to class.” Robb was a bit disappointed, but followed Theon to class.

As they rounded the North Tower, they came upon what looked like a body lying on the ground. They both audibly gasped. Robb instantly ran over to this body, a broomstick lying broken a few feet away. As he turned the body over, he realized it was… _Bran._

“No!” Robb exclaimed. He immediately checked if Bran was breathing, and he was.

“Oh, thank the gods, the old and the new,” Robb breathed. “Theon, help me with him! We have to get him back to the hospital wing!” 

Theon was in shock, but helped anyways. 

***

Arya and her siblings sat by Bran’s bedside in the hospital wing. Rickon was holding Bran’s hand while Robb and Jon argued behind them.

“Bran broke both his legs and lost his memory! Who could possibly do such a thing?!” Robb exclaimed.

“Obviously it was Professor Cersei or Jaime! Knowing Bran, he decided to investigate on his own and Jaime or Cersei caught him!” Jon said angrily.

“Maybe he just fell from his broom,” Sansa said calmly.

“No way!” Arya finally chimed in. “He never falls! And Robb just so happened to find him outside of Professor Cersei’s office?”

“Can you all _please_ stop fighting?” Bran mumbled. Arya gasped and ran over to her brother, embracing him tightly.

“Ow, ow, ow…” Bran said.

“Sorry!” Arya responded. “I just got so excited! I’m so glad you’re awake, and okay!”

Bran smiled and squeezed her hand. Everyone else crowded around, including Theon, asking a million questions.

“What do you remember?” was the primary question.

“Nothing,” Bran responded. “I remember walking the grounds of the school, and then nothing.”

They all looked at each other, confused and concerned.

“Do you think someone did this to you, or that you fell?” asked Theon.

“I don’t know… I’ve never fallen before, but anything’s possible…” Bran drifted off.

Arya pondered this. Sansa had told them what happened the day before with Joffrey, so Joffrey could have retaliated by injuring Bran; he was known to use curses on and harm other students, so she wouldn’t put this past him.

Arya shook her head. “Never mind all that, now,” she said to Bran with a soft smile. “You just get some rest and we’ll figure this out later.”

The next day, they all crowded into the Great Hall, awaiting an announcement from Professor Dumbledore.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” Dumbledore said glumly to the Great Hall. “Joffrey Baratheon… has gone missing.”

Gasps and murmurs filled the air in the hall, mingled with Professor Cersei’s audible crying.

Arya looked at Robb, Jon, and Rickon, then over to Sansa, a smile on her face, but she was met with only concerned expressions. _Why is everyone so bummed out?_ Arya thought. _We should be celebrating! Joffrey is a monster, this is a_ good _thing._ Arya’s smiled disappeared from her face as she realized Cersei was glaring at Sansa, and then at Daenerys. She came to the sudden realization that Professor Cersei blamed Sansa and Daenerys for Joffrey’s disappearance.

“Quiet!” Dumbledore’s voice boomed across the hall. “We’ll get to the bottom of this! But for now, we must announce the Champions for the Tri-Wizard Tournament!” 

A strange mood fell over the students of the Great Hall. What did the disappearance of the Minister’s son mean? Who could possibly be responsible for this? Arya chewed her lip and sat in silence as the Champions were announced, completely unphased by Harry Potter’s name being called. As the world erupted into chaos around her, Arya thought only of Bran and Joffrey.


End file.
